


Raspberry Tarts and Dornish Wine

by wightjon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Incest, just jaime being sweet to cersei, lots and lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 23:50:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wightjon/pseuds/wightjon
Summary: Jaime knows what the dull ache in his lower back means, it comes like clockwork every month since Cersei and he hit puberty. He also knows the best way to comfort his sister when shes at her most ferocious.





	Raspberry Tarts and Dornish Wine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for @cersc on tumblr for the got secret santa 2018 exchange. I hope she likes it. 
> 
> also thank you to ofwickedlight and afewreelthoughts for helping me with grammar/spelling/ect

Jaime was changing out of his sparring garb after an early practice in preparation for the Queen’s Name Day Tourney when he let out an unintentional hiss of pain. He hoped it would go unnoticed, but his sparring partner, Balon Swann, was looking right at him when it came out.

 

“Did I actually manage to get a few good hits in on you?” Balon announced loudly to the other knights while slapping him on the back, grinning like a  madman at the idea of managing to get a few good licks on Jaime...who had bested him on every round that morning. 

 

Jaime smirked at the man. “Only in your dreams, Swann,” he said, and playfully shoved him. “Your swings are so wide I could sail the entire  _ Royal Fleet _ through them and still remain unharmed.” 

 

Jaime’s quips caused the other men to erupt in laughter. He used the time to finish changing and left without much more bravado. While it was true that Balon hadn’t landed a single hit on him, there was the familiar dull ache settling in his lower back, and he knew exactly what it meant. 

 

\---

 

A few short hours later Jaime climbed the familiar steps to his sister’s chambers, arms filled with sweets, pastries, cakes, and a bottle of wine. He pushed the door open just wide enough for him to enter quickly and quietly. 

 

“I told you I do not wish to be disturbed!” Cersei’s called out, the annoyance in her voice muffled by  the pillows and blankets she was speaking through. Jaime shook his head in amusement at the realizing  she hadn’t gotten out of bed all day. 

 

“Well, if you don’t want this bottle of Dorne’s finest dry, or any of these raspberry tarts, I suppose I can leave you be,” Jaime replied to the lump in the middle of his sister’s bed--they were her favorites. 

 

A mess of blonde curls suddenly appeared from the mass of comforters. “Jaime?”

 

“Who else would dare brave a snarling lion on the first day of her moonsblood but  _ I _ , your golden knight, sweet sister?” he teased her, settling his array of treats and goodies on the table. 

 

Cersei pushed herself out from under her mountain of blankets and pillows, smiling the sweet smile she saved only for him. “Did you really get raspberry tarts? I was told the crop in the Reach was bad this year, and I haven’t had one in ages.”

 

“For you, Cersei? I can do anything,” he replied while handing her the tray of sweets and kissing her softly on the forehead. 


End file.
